


safe place

by nishanightray



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Cat Ears, Cat/Human Hybrids, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Polyamory, Sibling Incest, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i'm sorry i love izumiyama, idolish7 but they're all nekomimi, the other idolish members are only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 09:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14041452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishanightray/pseuds/nishanightray
Summary: Iori gets to enjoy domestic fluff with his two boyfriends on a rainy day.





	safe place

**Author's Note:**

> an alternative title of this fic could be: 'awkward soft kitties scared of how soft other kitties are', bc iori izumi,, 
> 
> also this fic is for @kobattsun who requested it~

It’s a rather bleak day, Iori thinks.

Sitting by the table in the living room, leafing through his notes, he stops to watch the raindrops drip from the roofs of the neighbor houses, the soft drizzle trickling down the window panes. It has stopped raining for a while, but Iori doesn’t have any will to go outside. He’s quite happy not having any work or school for today; he is not scared of water in itself, but doesn’t particularly enjoy such a humid weather either. His hair tend to get difficult to tame and he hates when his uniform gets wet and sticks to his body uncomfortably. Tucking his tail away to avoid getting its fur wet is also quite a hassle.

Today is a Sunday, which means there’s no school. It also happens to be one of their very rare days off (Iori’s chest swells in pride; to think that they’ve got so popular that days off have become such a rarity!), so Tamaki has taken full advantage of it and left to go to the game arcade as soon as rain has stopped; he’s easily managed to convince Nagi and Riku to go with him and it seems that Sougo and Tsumugi have ended up joining them, so almost all their members are out. Perhaps he should have gone too, although the arcade is not really his jam. He can’t help but worry about Riku’s health and he hasn’t let him leave the house in such a humid weather unless Riku swore to wear at least a sweater, a really warm, thick scarf and a hat. That has actually ended in another small fight (“Iori, stop treating me like a child! I’m older than you!” “Then stop acting like a child and wear your scarf, Nanase-san.”), but Riku’s resigned to it in the end. Still, Iori’s worry hasn’t subsided at all. 

“Ichi,” a voice rises from the other side of the room, “stop worrying. I can almost hear you thinking.”

Iori’s eyes wander to the sofa, where he can see Yamato stretching his long legs and arms and rolling on his stomach to look back at him. His tail dangles on the side, moving lazily. Iori can feel his cheeks get warm.

“I’m not worried.”

“Yeah,” Yamato says, not convinced at all. “Still. It will be fine. Sou and Manager are with them, right? Also, Tama and Nagi aren’t as childish as they look. And Riku can take care of himself, you know that. So relax, okay?” He smiles warmly, teasingly. “Do you want to come here and learn how to from oniisan?”

As tempting as it is, Iori ignores the last bit. “I’m not worried,” he repeats, softly, stubbornly, more to convince himself than Yamato. He knows Yamato’s right, and he does indeed feel more at ease by knowing Sougo and Tsumugi have gone with them. Their manager has also become a master in safeguarding their center’s health, while Sougo’s a mother hen and a kind man by nature. Tamaki and Nagi will also go to Riku’s rescue any moment; they’re dependable in their own way and so is Riku. Iori knows he shouldn’t be worried; he just is.

“Ichi…” Yamato calls him again, dragging the syllable slowly to tease him. Iori tries to make an annoyed face at him, but from the way Yamato smiles he can tell that he hasn’t quite succeeded. He supposes he could keep him company for a bit; there’s no one at the dorm except for them and Mitsuki, who’s apparently fixing their dinner. The familiar sounds coming from the kitchen -the simple fact that Niisan’s also here- are kind of comforting.

Before he has time to regret it, he gets up from the table and goes to sit next to Yamato on the sofa. Yamato stares at him the whole time and actually flexes his legs to make space for him. Iori looks at him and notices he’s even brought his pillow and blanket to the living room; he can’t help wondering why he’s even gone the trouble to leave his room to come napping on the sofa.

Yamato yawns and stretches his arms once more, only to curl up on his side, dragging the blanket on his shoulders. He seems quite comfortable where he is. His hair are as disheveled, untamed as usual, and Iori suddenly has this urge to run his fingers through them to fix them, perhaps lingering a bit to pet his cat ears. Yamato seems to like when he does, anyway, and is actually quite cute when he melts into his hands.

But Yamato’s now staring at him like he just _knows_ what he’s been thinking, and he’s smiling like he’s ready to jump on a new chance to tease him, so Iori reins in his urges and stubbornly looks away, pretending to be _oh so taken_ by his own notes that he doesn’t have time to think about spoiling the other, or worse, cuddling with him (and now that he’s thought about it, he really wants to). Yamato laughs softly at him, but keeps quiet, at least for the moment. Iori likes when he laughs from the heart, although he’d rather not be the one laughed at; when Yamato laughs like that, it makes him feel peaceful and a little happy. It warms up his chest. (Not that he’s ever going to admit all of this.)

Mitsuki chooses that moment to enter the living room with a tray containing three mugs and a kettle. A nice fragrance of green tea and lemons spreads through the room. Iori and Yamato sigh at the same time, making Mitsuki laugh a bit. He settles everything on the table and smiles at them.

“Thought you’d like something warm!” He says. Yamato sits up and leans over the back of the sofa to look at him, and Iori _tries_ to not follow every move of his dangling tail.

“Finished with dinner?” Yamato asks. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nah, I’m good! Why, would you get up for it, old man?”

“Mmm. Maybe. If you ask nicely, and stop calling me ‘old man’.”

Their bickering bounces back and forth as usual, all bark and no bite. Iori gets up, unfazed, and reaches to his mug. The nice aroma this tea has is making him relax and knowing that Mitsuki has thought of him while brewing it has him warming up all over before he even takes a sip.

“Thank you, Niisan,” he mutters softly, and Mitsuki stops his little petty fight with Yamato to smile at him.

“Sure,” he says, then gestures for him to come closer. When Iori does, a bit confused, Mitsuki takes the chance to kiss him on the cheek. He has to stand a bit on his tiptoes, which makes him unbelievably cute, but his boldness and the way he smiles at him are also kind of cool. Iori knows his cheeks are growing warm and red before someone even comments on it.

“N-Niisan!” He stutters a bit, and Mitsuki laughs softly.

“Sorry, you were just so meek and cute” he says, his smile growing larger. Iori thinks his heart might burst and leave his chest. He knows that, no matter what, he can’t win against Mitsuki -his brother will always find a way to make him melt, be it on purpose or not.

“Hello? I’m still here, and I want one too,” Yamato reminds them, waving a hand. Contrary to his choice of wording, he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Mitsuki leaves Iori’s side to reach for Yamato, sitting by him on the sofa. Iori stares hard at him as his brother actually has the guts to thread his fingers through Yamato’s unruly hair, not trying to fix them (more trouble than it’s worth), but rather taking the chance to pet them, scratching lightly behind his cat ears.

“A kiss?” He teases him, and beams at Yamato’s slightly flushed nose.

“Nope. I meant the tea.”

“It’s still hot, you know. Pretty useless to give it to you now, you wouldn’t be able to drink anyway,” Mitsuki says matter-of-factly, and Iori’s reminded of how cautiously Yamato drinks hot beverages. Yamato’s not fond of the cold, but can’t stand hot food either; he doesn’t want to risk his sensitive tongue getting burnt and aching. Winter must be a pretty challenging season to him.

“Mmm… Then, Mitsu, warm me up,” Yamato says. He then proceeds to unzip Mitsuki’s sweatshirt, put his arms inside and around his back and pulls him closer, pressing their bodies together. Mitsuki lets him be, quite contented with this position, and gets back to petting his hair and ears, smiling giddily as he earns a soft purring noise from Yamato.

Iori wishes he could just snap from one to one thousand photos at them, while also wishing he could be in the middle of that -but he’s too embarrassed to even think about it, let alone suggest it. He lets jealousy prickle his heart, looking down at his mug without quite knowing what to do. He could just sit by the table, sip his tea and go back to read his notes, but then he remembers he’s actually left his notebook on the sofa. It feels awkward to go there to get it back. He wishes he could not be awkward about it.

Being in a relationship with your older brother is, to say the least, unexpected; being with Yamato can be difficult, and it is definitely not what he expected either. However, being in a relationship with both of them easily takes the cake. Iori often finds himself dealing with difficult feelings, emotionally challenging situations and, of course, two adults who could be a real handful. Mitsuki and Yamato seem to be closer between them than he is, although they do try to spoil him. (Iori doesn’t know how to be spoiled in the least.)

“Iori, won’t you come here too?” Mitsuki calls for him, perplexed and kind of worried. Iori realizes he must be staring at his tea with a rather complex expression right now. He shakes his head, takes a long sip and feels the tea warm on his tongue. It’s a bit sour, but he doesn’t dislike it. He puts down the mug and looks over to them.

“…can I?” He asks, hesitating. “I don’t want to interrupt anything,” He says, and mentally kicks himself because it sounds so petty. Mitsuki gestures at him to join them.

“What? Of course you can!” He says. “Look, Yamato-san’s been sulking because you won't spoil him even though he took the trouble to leave his _futon_ and join you in the living room.”

Yamato promptly slaps him on the arm. “Did you _have_ to say it like that? I was not. It was not like that. I was not sulking about that,” he mumbles. Maybe it’s the way he stumbles on his words, or the fact that his ears and nose are flushed, but he doesn’t sound very convincing. Iori can’t help but mutter a “cute” under his breath. He takes another long sip of tea, lets the sour taste rest a bit on his tongue, then leaves the mug where it is while he gets up and moves again to the sofa. He puts his notebook aside and sits by their side, this time actually shifting closer to them. Their tails are softly entwined and once again Iori wishes he could snap a photo.

Contrary to his words, Yamato seems to actually be relieved that he’s decided to join them and promptly shifts so that he’s resting with his whole body on both of them, placing his head in Iori’s lap. His ears twitch when Iori dares to touch them, slowly adjusting to slide his fingers in his hair. Iori notices that Yamato’s still quietly purring from his throat, and feels he could die just like this. While holding Yamato’s hand, Mitsuki reaches with his other one to place it on Iori’s shoulder, hugging his shoulders with one arm; slowly but surely, his fingers climb towards his scalp and then start threading through his short hair. The noise doubles and Iori internally dies from embarrassment by registering that he’s started purring too. But this feels warm, nice and safe, so he won’t complain about it. Yamato looks like he could fall asleep anytime, lulled by the mood, and Iori also catches himself thinking that it wouldn’t be bad at all, to let himself go like this.

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe the very first idolish7 fic i publish is about nekomimi&mitsuyamaio but what can i say, i just love izumiyama too much for my own good  
> also it's like 3 am here, oh my god


End file.
